TUN-HUANG

by Yasushi Inoue

  The next day Hsing-te visited the hut with his breakfast rations and some water, taking care not to be seen. He could not see the girl when he peered inside and thought she might have run off, but when he entered, he found her hidden in the cellar as he had instructed.

  Hsing-te told her that he had brought food and water, and he left as soon as he had placed them in the aristocratic hands that stretched out from the cellar.

  That afternoon part of the main army, led by Li Yüan-hao, reached the city. It was supposedly just a small unit of the troops stationed outside the city, but the garrison soon brimmed over with Hsi-hsia soldiers, whose physique and facial structure differed from the Chinese. Hsing-te now realized that his unit’s battle had been only a small part of the whole operation. Along the upper reaches of the Black River, which ran from north to south on the west of Kan-chou, and in the middle regions of the Shan-tan River, which Hsing-te’s unit had crossed on its march to Liang-chou, great clashes had taken place between the main armies, with the Hsi-hsia army victorious in both. It was said that the Uighur army had retreated on all fronts and sped westward, as though a meeting place had been agreed between them in advance.

  From the third day of the occupation, first the Uighurs and then various other natives of Kan-chou began to come out of hiding and return. The strange way in which they appeared made one wonder where they had been. Naturally, only a very small fraction of the civilians had returned, but nonetheless the garrison regained the atmosphere of a bustling town. Food shops were opened and vegetable markets sprang up. But for good reason no woman was yet in sight.

  Hsing-te furtively gave food daily to the girl. On the fifth night when he brought her dinner as usual, he did not find her in the cellar. He thought that she had disappeared for certain this time. Shortly after, however, she returned from outside. When he reproached her for taking such a risk, she assured him that there was nothing to worry about, as she had been going out each night to wash her face and to drink water.

  The girl stood near the entrance of the hut. In the waning moonlight which streamed in the door, she was clearly visible. There was no longer wariness or fear of Hsing-te in her expression.

  “Why do you take the trouble to bring me food like this?” she asked in her characteristically clear voice.

  “Because I want to save your life.”

  “Why do you want to save it?”

  Hsing-te was at a loss for an answer. From the moment he had discovered the girl on the beacon tower, he had been obsessed with the thought that it was his mission to save her, but he himself could not understand why he felt this way. As Hsing-te remained silent, she repeated, “You say that you want to save me, but I don’t want to stay here forever. How long will I have to stay here?”

  Her tone was petulant. He felt that she was being some-what willful, but Hsing-te was not angry; he merely tried to find words to console her.

  “The number of Uighurs in the city is increasing daily. As yet there are no women, but they should be returning soon. When that happens, you can leave this place and look after yourself.”

  When Hsing-te finished, she said, “I am a woman of royal birth. If I’m caught, I’ll probably be killed.”

  “You can hide your royal background. And when you have the opportunity, you can escape from this city and head west as your tribesmen did.”

  Even as he spoke, Hsing-te knew that his words lacked conviction. He could not imagine how this girl, with her evident aristocratic air could possibly make her own way to her people.

  Tonight was the first time that Hsing-te and the girl had conversed at any length. He could not bear to look at her for long. He could not tell whether it was her refinement or her dignity which confused him so, but there was something about her thin face, with its clear-cut features, and her delicate, fragile form which stirred Hsing-te profoundly.

  On the seventh day after they had entered Kan-chou, Hsing-te was called in by Wang-li. Wang-li had taken over a house with three large jujube trees shading the small garden. From the dirt floor, he called out, “You told me that you wanted to learn Hsi-hsia writing, so I’ll let you go to Hsing-ch’ing. This proves that I’m really a man of my word, doesn’t it? As soon as you learn Hsi-hsia, come right back.” Then he informed Hsing-te that there was a unit leaving for Hsing-ch’ing the next day and that he was to go with it and obey the orders of its commanding officer.

  “I’m to be commander of a very large unit soon. When you return I’ll make you my chief of staff.”

  Wang-li was then commander of five hundred men but, as he had just said, it was certain that he would soon be put in charge of a much larger unit, through official recognition of his distinguished service.

  Hsing-te was very grateful for this opportunity, but he was concerned about what to do with the girl if he were to leave the next day. When Hsing-te asked for a two-week delay, Wang-li took affront and shouted angrily, “You leave tomorrow! Those are my orders!”

  Hsing-te realized that he must give in to his simple-minded, fearless commander, who regarded him so highly.

  That night Hsing-te told the girl that he was leaving, but that she was not to worry, because he would introduce her to someone else who would look after her. He planned to tell Wang-li about her just before his departure and to ask his help in protecting her.

  The girl came out of the cellar and stood by the door. Her whole body suddenly stiffened with fear, and she pleaded, “I can’t trust anyone but you. Please stay a little longer!”

  When Hsing-te explained that he had to go regardless of his own feelings, the girl suddenly knelt on the dirt floor and wept bitterly, raising her arms in supplication.

  “Do you know why I was alone on the beacon tower?”

  Hsing-te had questioned her about this once or twice before, but she had not replied. As if to prove her gratitude to him, she now explained. “I was waiting there for my betrothed. I had set off with my family, but on the way I remembered his promise to return to the city as long as he was alive. That’s why I slipped back to the city alone. That’s why I went up the beacon tower, but you found me there. I think my fiancé was killed in battle and his soul sent you to me in his place. I can think of no other explanation for a person like you. And you tell me that you are going to desert me after all this?”

  Hsing-te watched the heaving shoulders of the girl as she lay weeping on the earthen floor. The stones of her necklaces glistened icily in the moonlight as they shook with her weeping.

  He went to the girl and gently tried to lift her from the ground. For some reason she instinctively pulled herself up and looked squarely at Hsing-te. Until this moment Hsing-te had been conscious of no particular feeling for this girl, but when the cold night air wafted the feminine scent of her body toward him, he was suddenly overcome by his desire to possess this beautiful creature.

  After a while the girl stopped resisting and meekly let Hsing-te have his way with her. When he had regained his composure, Hsing-te was swept with shame for what he had done. He felt that there was no excuse for his actions, and his heart was heavy with sorrow. As he turned to leave, the girl clung to his legs.

  “Please forgive me. I acted like a beast just now, but I was not myself,” Hsing-te apologized.

  “I know that very well,” the girl replied. “You love me, and you are the incarnation of my former fiancé.”

  “Yes. I do love you, and I truly must be the incarnation of your lost fiancé. This was predestined. If not, why would fate have brought me from the distant Sung capital to a place like this?” Hsing-te had unconsciously used the girl’s own words.

  He honestly believed them. And he also felt the girl’s present sorrow pulsing inside his own heart.

  “Are you really going?”

  “I must.”

  “Will you return?”

  “I’ll definitely be back within a year.”

  “Then I’ll wait for you here. Promise me you’ll come back.” The girl cried bitterly again as sh
e spoke. Resolutely, Hsing-te left for his quarters, staring all the while at his moving shadow which resembled a blot of ink spilled upon the ground, whose soil had a light, ashlike quality.

  The next morning Hsing-te went to Wang-li’s quarters. Wang-li assumed that Hsing-te had come to say goodbye.

  “You and I will die together at the same place. Hurry back! Someday the two of us must take part in such a fierce battle that we alone will survive. Then we shall win the battle. And don’t ever forget our promise to build the monument,” he said. It was obvious that Wang-li was still not satisfied with the violence of the recent battle.

  “What I really came for was to ask a very special favor of you,” Hsing-te started. Noting from Hsing-te’s expression that it was a serious matter, Wang-li spoke gravely. “What is it? Speak up!”

  “I’m hiding a young girl of the Uighur royal family. I want to ask you to give her your protection.”

  “A girl!” Wang-li’s expression showed conflicting emotions. Then his eyes gleamed and he asked, “A woman? There’s a woman?”

  “She’s not an ordinary woman. She’s a princess.”

  “What’s so different about a princess? Hurry up and show her to me!” Wang-li stood up. Hsing-te tried a new approach.

  “She is not an ordinary woman. She has Chinese blood, just like you and I. She can also speak Chinese.”

  “A woman is a woman, right? There’s only one use for a woman.” Hsing-te began to regret having brought up the subject of the girl with Wang-li.

  “If you touch this girl, you will die.”

  “Die?” Wang-li looked surprised at this unexpected bit of information.

  “Why will I die?”

  “From ancient times it has been said that anyone who has intercourse with royal women of the Uighurs will not live long.”

  “Do you think I’m the type who’s afraid of dying a little earlier?”

  “You won’t die in battle. Your body will shrivel up and then you’ll die.”

  Wang-li was silent. He half believed Hsing-te although he still had some doubts. But the thought of dying in any place other than on the battlefield was something that Wang-li could not bear.

  “Well, then, I won’t meet this woman,” said Wang-li. Then changing his mind immediately, he added, “But I won’t be satisfied until I see her. Show her to me once. It wouldn’t matter if I just looked at her, would it?”

  Hsing-te led Wang-li to the hut. The girl had left the cellar and was seated on the dirt floor. Wang-li stared boldly at her, but made no attempt to enter.

  “You’re right, she’s no ordinary woman.” He spoke in a subdued tone.

  “Is this man to look after me from today?” The girl spoke unexpectedly.

  Wang-li recoiled at the sound of her voice and took a few steps backward. Then, abruptly, he turned his back on the girl and walked away. When Hsing-te caught up with him, Wang-li said, “I don’t know how to manage women like her. I don’t think I can do anything for her. If it’s enough to have some Uighur native bring her meals to her, I can agree to that.”

  Then as if the thought had just occurred to him, he asked, “Why did you hide her?”

  “I’m not exactly sure myself,” Hsing-te replied.

  “I suppose that’s so. Even you wouldn’t know. She’s that kind of woman. Her type is beyond me. I can tell that at a glance. That kind of woman becomes very demanding and willful. I know. And no matter how unreasonable their demands, we can’t help doing as they say. I know that very well. She will be completely in control of a man. She is a woman, and yet somehow more than just a woman. Aren’t there any ordinary women around somewhere?” Sincerity rang in Wang-li’s words. There was no deceit or pretense. But Hsing-te still felt that he must have the girl looked after. So he repeated his request.

  “I don’t want to see that woman again. I want nothing more to do with her. But since I’ve seen her I don’t have the heart to abandon her. I’ll have the Uighurs look after her.”

  Wang-li returned to his quarters and ordered his men to bring in five elderly Uighurs. From this group he chose one and dismissed the others. He glared at him and said, “I want you to bring meals to a woman and take care of all her wants. If you tell anyone about this, or if there’s any suspicion cast on your activities, I’ll have your head on the spot. Do you understand?”

  The Uighur mumbled under his breath that misfortunes rained upon him one after another. In the end he agreed to carry out the orders. Hsing-te took the old man to the girl’s shelter, and when they arrived, he again made him promise faithfully to carry out Wang-li’s orders.

  After dismissing the old man, Hsing-te exchanged farewells with the girl. She made Hsing-te repeat his vow to return within a year. Then she said, “Now please leave quickly.”

  As they parted, the girl took one of the two necklaces from around her neck and handed it silently to Hsing-te. Her smile was weak but infinitely tender. Hsing-te held her hand briefly, then left quickly. The iciness of the girl’s hand in his own rough one remained with Hsing-te. As he passed through the gate of the house, he encountered the old Uighur coming toward him with a full bucket of water.

  “I’ll take care that no one sees me. Don’t worry.” The old man spoke reassuringly.

  Hsing-te left the city at noon. At the gate he joined the ranks of about two hundred men preparing to leave. He had no idea what Wang-li had told the young commander about him, but Hsing-te felt that the commander held him in great respect.

  It was June of 1028.

  CHAPTER IV

  Hsing-te arrived in the Hsi-hsia capital of Hsing-ch’ing, after his first trip across the great expanse of desert from Liang-chou, and found the city jubilant over Hsi-hsia’s successful invasion of Kan-chou. It was difficult for Hsing-te, who had spent his time at the frontier, to understand why this victory over the Uighurs was important to the Hsi-hsia, but their success in Liang-chou, followed by their invasion of Kan-chou, meant that they had crossed their first major hurdle in gaining trading rights with the west.

  Until then, rugs and jewels—indeed, all types of goods from the west—had first passed through Uighur hands, then entered China and Khitan in the east. The Uighurs alone had profited from the trade, but from now on Hsi-hsia would take over the business role of the Uighurs. The conquest of Liang-chou, which meant control of all the thoroughbred horses in the world, was primarily of military significance, but the economic gain to the newly-founded Hsi-hsia nation from its invasion of Kan-chou was incalculable. In the Wuliang territory, the only areas left to conquer were Kua-chou and Sha-chou, which were under Chinese rule. If Hsi-hsia overcame these two regions it would then border directly on Central Asia—the gateway to the countries of the west with their unlimited wealth.

  As might be expected of the capital of Hsi-hsia, Hsing-ch’ing was completely different from Liang-chou and Kan-chou. Although the desert started a short distance away, Hsing-ch’ing itself was a city set in the center of a plain full of trees and greenery. In the distant west were the Ho-lan mountains, and about ten miles to the east was the Yellow River. Surrounding Hsing-ch’ing were rivers and swamps, neatly laid out irrigation ditches, and farms and orchards, which stretched away into the distance.

  The walled city had six gates, and the turrets rose high above them. What first surprised Hsing-te when he entered the city were the signs posted at random on buildings and on reclaimed land. These were all in Hsi-hsia characters. Until Hsing-te grew accustomed to seeing them, he felt strange whenever he walked through the town, with its profusion of strange symbols written in yellow, blue, red, and other bright colors. He learned that the use of Chinese characters was prohibited and that it was compulsory to use the newly formed national writing system.

  Such regulations did not apply to the writing alone; clothing, cosmetics, etiquette and everything else which had been influenced by the Chinese were forbidden, while things Hsi-hsia were strongly encouraged, testifying to the national pride and ambition of this rising
country. There was a comical aspect to these efforts; and yet there was something more which could not be laughed off casually. Reflected in the eyes of the Hsi-hsia who walked about the town, Hsing-te saw unique qualities—a mixture of fearlessness, brutality, ignorance, and arrogance. This race was definitely superior to the Khitans and the Uighurs.

  The military controlled the government of Hsi-hsia, but all domestic affairs were conducted through government offices modeled after the Sung system. Hsing-te was sent to a large Buddhist temple that was used as a school in the northwestern district of the town. There were no students as such, but about thirty soldiers sent from different areas to learn to write Hsi-hsia lived there. With the exception of Hsing-te, they were all young Hsi-hsia, though the ten or so instructors were all Chinese. Hsing-te was given a room in the temple, and found it convenient in many ways to have so many Chinese at hand. At first he was given unimportant tasks to do while he learned Hsi-hsia, but as his scholarship became recognized, he was given special work. He wrote pamphlets, or helped copy the definitions of Chinese characters. At long last, Hsing-te was able to return to working with words. He spent from fall until the following spring learning Hsi-hsia. Winter in Hsing-ch’ing was from October to March. In November the irrigation ditches leading from the Yellow River froze, and it hailed every day. Around April when the ice on the Yellow River began to melt, Hsing-te started work on a Hsi-hsia—Chinese dictionary. It was an extremely difficult task. In summer the winds were north-westerly, but the heat was intense, and fine desert dust blew over the city walls and covered the town. Because of these dust storms there were moments when the day became as dark as night. Even when there was no dust, there were terrible thunderstorms.

  When Hsing-te began the dictionary, he lost himself in his work. There were over six thousand Hsi-hsia characters. The inventor of the writing system had been Chinese, but he had died. If he had still been alive, selecting the proper Chinese character for each Hsi-hsia word would have been easy, but since the originator was dead, it was very difficult to choose the proper Chinese character from the countless others with similar meanings.